


Precursor

by DoodlesOfTheMind



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, pre-massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoodlesOfTheMind/pseuds/DoodlesOfTheMind
Summary: As six-year-old Uchiha Itachi prepares to enter the Academy, dominoes begin to fall. Very soon now, two young boys will be recognized for their extraordinary talent, an aging spook will find the opportunity to rid the village of an ever-growing threat, a loyal friend will make the ultimate sacrifice in the quest for peace, and a famed ANBU Captain will watch in horror as his trusted comrade carries out an unspeakable atrocity. But in this moment, the future hinges on an old man, a pot of tea, and three centuries of Uchiha insularity.





	Precursor

Sarutobi Hiruzen sighed and glanced up an instant before the door to his office cracked open.

“I’ve brought the Uchiha boy, Hokage-sama,” a young man’s voice said, slightly muffled by the porcelain ANBU mask that covered his face. “Though I warn you now, his clansmen will _not_ be pleased.”

“Thank you, Cat,”  he replied. “Please, send him in.”

The door opened wider to reveal a slender six-year-old boy with pale skin and dark hair flanked by two more ANBU guards. The child looked somewhat intimidated as he glanced up at them and then forward again, but the instant his charcoal eyes settled on the aging leader of Konohagakure no Sato, all expression vanished from his face. He took a few hesitant steps into the room and bowed deeply.

“There’s no need for that, Itachi-kun. This isn’t a formal meeting,” Hiruzen said gently as the door closed behind the boy. “Come here and have a seat.”

There was a new wariness in the boy’s face when he rose, and Hiruzen frowned. The Uchiha were a traditional clan, and they kept to the old formalities when so many of the lesser families had let them fall by the wayside. Itachi gave little away, but it seemed that Hiruzen had only thrown him further off balance with his attempt to make him comfortable. Typical Uchiha, there was no way to win.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” he offered.

“That would be welcome, Hokage-sama,” Itachi said quietly. “Thank you.”

Hiruzen poured him a cup from the teapot waiting at the corner of his desk. _That would be welcome._ What kind of child spoke like that? _A genius, apparently,_ he thought wryly. “Well, Itachi-kun, I’m sure you’ve been anxiously awaiting the results of your Academy placement tests, ne?”

“My family and I are eager to know, yes,” he said, taking the cup from him with a grateful bow of his head. The complete neutrality of the statement was unsettling.

“Your scores are in that folder,” Hiruzen said, and he caught the way Itachi’s hand twitched toward it before he controlled himself. So, there was a little boy buried underneath that near-perfect discipline after all. “You may go over them, if you’d like.”

Itachi’s hand trembled slightly as he pulled the folder toward him and flipped it open. Each category was graded on a scale of one through six, indicating which level the child was ready to study in that particular area. Most first year students were a mix of ones and twos, sometimes with a three in one area if they were exceptionally bright or had a kekkei genkai that lent them an advantage. Hiruzen had nearly choked when he’d been handed this particular report.

 

Subject

| 

Required Score

| 

Student’s Score  
  
---|---|---  
  
Taijutsu

| 

6

| 

4  
  
Weapons

| 

5

| 

5  
  
Ninjutsu

| 

6

| 

6+  
  
Genjutsu

| 

5

| 

6+  
  
Academics

(combined reading, writing, mathematics, and strategy)

| 

6

| 

6+  
  
National Law

| 

6

| 

6+  
  
International Law

| 

5

| 

3  
  
 

Itachi looked up after a moment. “I was told that this was a placement test, and there were no required scores for entrance.”

Hiruzen felt his jaw drop. “Shockingly enough, you’re correct. Those are the minimum scores required for _graduation._ ”

“I...see,” Itachi said slowly. “I apologize for my poor performance. I will do better.”

Just how hard did the Lord and Lady Uchiha push their son? Hiruzen shook his head. “Itachi-kun, those are the scores I expect to see from eleven- or twelve-year-old students, not from an entrance test. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Itachi bowed his head again, but he didn’t appear to agree.

“In fact, your father is pressuring me to promote you straight to Genin,” he continued. “He says you have nothing to learn from an Academy sensei. What do you think of that?”

Itachi looked up uncertainly. “There’s always something to learn, even if it’s not on the subject being taught.”

“That’s a very wise thing to say, and true as well,” he said with a smile.

Itachi took a sip of tea and shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“What would you like me to do?” Hiruzen asked. “Should I promote you immediately, or would you like to spend a year or two studying? We do offer a selection of advanced courses that would be suited to your talents.”

“That is not my decision,” Itachi said. “I will do what is best for my village.”

“I know that, Itachi. I’m asking what you would want if both options were equally advantageous,” he said, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I...” Itachi began reluctantly. “I want to attend classes at the Academy...if that’s alright.”

“Why?” he asked. _Who balks at the offer of an instant promotion?_

Itachi seemed to curl into his chair, becoming even smaller. “If you give me my hitai-ate before I meet the standards, it would be seen as a political favor to my father. The Academy would start seeing similar requests and they would either deny them, creating tension with the other families, or they would be quietly lowering the graduation requirements and weakening our forces,” Itachi said.

Hiruzen frowned. Genius, indeed. How could a little child reason like this, let alone his stilted speech and advanced vocabulary? “You have a valid point,” he finally said. “A number of them, actually. That’s precisely what I tried to tell Fugaku-san.”

“On that note...” Itachi began, trailing off nervously. “Forgive me, Hokage-sama, but the ANBU have no right to enter our lands uninvited. Otou-san will not forgive this.”

The older man shook his head. “Sending Cat was not my first choice, but your father has refused my requests to meet with you for nearly a week.”

Itachi frowned. “Otou-san...does not want me to talk to you?”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and shouts from the hall. The doors flew open and a haze of thick grey smoke filled the office. Hiruzen leapt up, motioning for Itachi to get behind him, but the boy only put his head in his hands as a small figure dashed between the guards.

“Shisui-nii, you idiot...”

“Itachi! Quick, run!” the newcomer shouted as he was tackled to the floor. Hiruzen caught a glimpse of unruly dark hair and scarlet eyes before the boy’s face was crushed against the carpet. “Ow, shit! That’s my goddamn arm, you son of a—”

“It’ll be your neck if you don’t hold still,” the ANBU soldier on top of him growled, brutally slamming the boy’s head down again.

Shisui cried out in pain, and Itachi was just _there_. His tiny hand lifted a miniature kunai to the man’s throat, and his eyes blazed Sharingan crimson. “Let him go.”

The man froze, his mess of brown hair falling over his hidden face, but he didn’t move until another ANBU soldier approached. “Do it, rookie. Even a pup will kill for his pack,” he said quietly, the words slightly muted by his own porcelain mask.

“Hound-taichou, you can’t be serious...” the man protested.

“Get off the damn kid, or have your throat opened by a six-year-old,” the one called Hound said, but the growing tension in his body belied his easy tone. “I’m docking your pay either way.”

It took a moment, but the man’s hands eventually opened, and he allowed his comrade draw him away. Itachi let him go, but a single black tomoe whirled dangerously in each eye as he looked down at the other boy.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“It’s nuttin’, ‘Tatsi. Sasuke-tan hits harder,” Shisui muttered thickly, trying to stem the flow of blood from his broken nose as he pushed himself up with one hand. “Did they hurt you?”

“Of course not, and the suggestion is an insult to the Hokage,” Itachi said.

“ _I_ insulted _him_? He had the fucking _ANBU_ break into your home and kidnap you!” Shisui cried. “Do you _know_ what those freaks do? They could have—”

“Silence,” Itachi whispered, and the hint of childishness that Hiruzen had seen in him vanished entirely. He was a perfect miniature of his Lord father: quiet, regal, and deadly at need. Authority incarnate.

Shisui dropped to a knee and bowed his head. Hiruzen didn’t even hear him breathe.

Then the future Lord Uchiha turned on the soldier who had broken his clansman’s nose and, from the looks of it, dislocated the boy’s left shoulder as well. “My cousin is among the most talented of our clan’s children,” Itachi said coldly. “He is often called a genius, but if you serve in the Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai, you are capable of subduing even an unusually skilled pre-Genin. You had no cause to harm him.”

The man took a furious step forward, but Hound kicked his ankle out from under him and shoved him down into the same position as Shisui. It would have put him almost at eye level with Itachi, but the other man kept a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to look at the floor. “I apologize for the behavior of my subordinate, Uchiha-kun.  You have my word that it will be dealt with appropriately,” he said. “I have some skill as a field medic. If you grant your leave, I will see to your clansman’s injuries.”

Itachi seemed to hesitate, and he glanced at Shisui. The older Uchiha boy was trembling in pain, his jaw clenched as he fought to remain still and quiet. A proper obeisance required that he keep his hands down, one crossed in front of his body with his arm resting on his knee, and the other fist touching the floor; it allowed the blood from his nose to run unchecked over his face and neck, dripping onto his white shirt.

“Yes. Please do,” he said softly.

Hound pressed on his comrade’s neck slightly, warning him not to move before he stepped away. He moved cautiously, allowing Itachi to anticipate every motion as he approached the other boy and squatted beside him. Shisui hissed in agony when the man’s hands pressed against his chest, gently pushing him upright. “Easy there,” Hound said, his voice flat and calm. “The shoulder’s going to be the worst part. Just breathe, and try not to fight me.”

Shisui snarled something under his breath, but it turned into a sharp cry as Hound’s semi-gloved fingertips settled on his injured arm. A pale blue light formed around the man’s hand, and there was a sickening squelch as he popped Shisui’s shoulder back into its socket. Shisui screamed and his balance wavered before he crumpled forward against Hound’s grey chestplate.

“Shh, it’s done,” he murmured, shifting his arms to support the shaking boy. “Ride it out. Focus. If you pass out, who will protect your little brother?”

Shisui stiffened and pulled back from the man, still breathing heavily. “Not his brother,” he said.

“The hell you’re not,” Hound said quietly. “Hold still while I set the nose.”

Shisui managed not to cry out when glimmering fingers tugged his nose back into place, but it was a near thing. He did, however, curse the air black until he glanced at Itachi. “Er, sorry. That stung a bit.”

Itachi shook his head. “Go home.”

“I’m not leaving you he—”

“ _Go_ ,” Itachi ordered.

“Make me.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re stalling.”

“Maybe a little,” Shisui said. “But then again, maybe I’m not.”

Hiruzen saw anger, worry, and sheer frustration flit across Itachi’s face, but then the boy took a slow breath and his eyes fell half closed. He could feel the child’s chakra seeping out into the space around them, an unusual mix of fire and water affinities. He reached out with his own senses, and it was tough not to groan. “Let him through,” he said tiredly.

Shisui stepped aside and bowed deeply as the Lord of the Uchiha clan stormed into the room. Dark, furious eyes surveyed the tableau before him: an injured child of his clan, two ANBU soldiers with hands in their weapons holsters, and his firstborn son at the center of it all.

“How dare you!” he demanded quietly. “You send your dogs into _my_ home, set them on my _family!_ How are my people supposed to sleep at night after this sort of invasion?”

Hiruzen sighed inwardly, already braced for one of the clan Lord’s infamous tirades. Minato-kun had always managed to remain on good terms with the Uchiha, but he could never say the same. There was too much history, too much bad blood throughout too many years of warfare.

“Shisui,” Fugaku snapped. “See Itachi home safely.”

The boy dipped a little lower before rising. “Yes, sir.”

 

~

“Don’t want your nasty tea,” Shisui muttered, staring at the floor as he stood in front of the Hokage’s desk the next day. His stance was wide, balanced, and his hands were very obviously open at his sides. Braced for impact.

“Shisui-kun, I am _not_ going to hurt you. I’m actually impressed.”

“Bullshit you are,” the boy retorted.

“Not many people get past my personal guard, especially a boy of nine,” Hiruzen said, deliberately ignoring the provocation. “I’d like to know how you did it.”

Shisui’s small fists clenched, and he took a few slow breaths before he spoke. “Not many people get past Fugaku-sama’s,” Shisui said, almost calm. “Trade me?”

Hiruzen raised an eyebrow at that. The young man had already proven that he was bold, but to come here ready for a standoff... Hiruzen subtly extended his chakra, and he had to take care not to flinch. Underneath the blistering hatred that emanated from him, white-hot traces of genjutsu still lingered in his tattered aura. The boy had taken a psychic beating that would break most Chuunin.

Fugaku. Shinobi clans were all but sovereign when it came to their internal affairs and they were often harsh with their children, instilling from day one the discipline required handle their power and to protect and serve their village, but this...

“Shisui-kun, please. Sit down,” Hiruzen said gently.

The boy sneered, but he still didn’t raise his eyes from the ground. “That an order, old man?”

“Cat specializes in infiltration and identified a security gap along the eastern border of the clan compound. No one was harmed.”

To his credit, Shisui recognized the peace offering for what it was. “Came in through the vents. Tossed a flash-bang and a smoke bomb to disorient them. The shorter one hesitated and I slipped past him.”

Hiruzen nodded. “Thank you. That information may save my life one day.”

Shisui met his eyes for the first time, two scarlet orbs brimming with renewed fury. “If you move against my family again, it won’t. I promise you.”

“Dismissed,” Hiruzen said quietly. “But you would do well to mind your tongue.”

The boy gave him a perfunctory bow before turning on his heel without a word.

 

~

By the time term started, Itachi’s hair had grown a little past his shoulders. It was a small thing, but it made Hiruzen smile. The boy wasn’t entirely lost to the soldier he would become. Shisui, however, was another story entirely. Behind that roguish facade was a child of iron.

“He’s seen combat,” Hound observed, standing at Hiruzen’s shoulder as they watched a videotape recorded during a simulated attack. It was the first of its kind for Class 121, and it was the truest test of which of these ten-year-old children would be ready to defend their homeland. The grainy footage showed five Chuunin volunteers in Iwa uniforms descending upon the Academy’s outdoor training field, live blades held in cautious hands. Organized sparring turned to chaos as the children saw their teacher collapse, fake blood gushing from a ‘wound’ to her chest. Roughly half of the class bolted for the safety of the Academy doors, only to be ‘caught’ and knocked unconscious with light genjutsu. The other half, though... Eight boys and girls responded to the hand signals flashed by a stocky young man with a mop of curly black hair and searing red eyes. They scattered, their still-developing chakra control working to their advantage and leaving excess smoke in their wake as each child picked a target. Shisui himself lunged toward their fallen sensei and unclipped her kunai holster, snapping it in place on his own belt in a single, smooth motion. He drew two knives and whirled to meet the nearest attacker, who was distracted by a faceful of fire from a little blonde girl in leggings and a navy T-shirt. He drew real blood before the Chuunin pretended to succumb to the flames, falling to the ground. He clearly wasn’t expecting Shisui to follow him and slit his throat to make sure he stayed down, and he barely pulled off a subtle substitution in time to avoid genuine injury. Shisui passed off two blades to the girl, who sported blistering burns around her lips and on her hands from inexpertly manipulating the flames. She took them without hesitation, and they split off to rescue their comrades.

“The Uchiha were on the front lines during the Great War. He never left,” Hound said, watching the drill come to a close, all five attackers ‘dead’ on the grass. Just before the video feed stopped, a bloodied Shisui darted out of frame, heading back toward the Academy classrooms. Hound looked up at that, and Hiruzen nodded.

“He made quite the ruckus bursting into young Itachi’s class. It took most of ten minutes to convince him it was just a drill. He didn’t take it well,” Hiruzen said drily. “Neither did you when you were a boy, if I recall.”

“Ahem, yes, well...” Hound said, sounding for all the world like the teenager he was. Would have been. Hiruzen’s grin slowly slipped away. The Academy headmaster had graduated six-year-old Hatake Kakashi on the spot after his performance, and he shuddered to think what would have become of the boy without Minato’s guidance.

Then again, looking up at that cold, porcelain mask, maybe it was too little, too late.

And taken far too soon.

“Come have a cup of tea. I have a new assignment for you,” he said quietly.

 


End file.
